


Child's Play

by canadino



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, Preschool AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5477645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadino/pseuds/canadino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beans and the Problem Teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Child's Play

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Tianna! I hope you like this. I haven't actually ever written Pariston despite enjoying him as a character (nor Beans, if we're being honest) so I hope I've done him/them all justice for you? Is school particularly domestic? Anyway, I hope this adds to your holiday cheer!

Beans was alright with children, but his specialty really was paperwork. There was something about filling in empty spaces and checking for gaps in forms and filing that gave him immense satisfaction, like sitting down after a long day on his feet. He did administrative work and he did it well. The thing was, secretaries were never in really high demand and he did not fit the mold of a hot secretary nor was he particularly interested in being worked to death without getting the proper acknowledgement of his ability and effort. “You like paperwork?” the old man at the bar, who had listened to him commiserate one moody evening while sipping a deep amber scotch, said. “I might have an opening for you, and I daresay it’s a very rewarding yet taxing environment.”

The old man was Isaac Netero, founder and principal of a very prestigious preschool. It was prestigious not only in the talent that it housed within its four walls, but it was the preschool of choice for the fairly noteworthy and well-known in society. The tuition was steep, but the yearly income paled in comparison to the net worth of the bodies combined that the preschool oversaw and taught. Beans stayed in the office for most of the day, processing application forms and bounced checks from those who couldn’t afford to actually attend and scheduling interviews and tests for those who could, but from time to time, he heard the revelry of the children and thought fondly that these were the times when they could be truly carefree. He fretted over young Killua Zoldyck, who was always picked up after school by his very tall and very broad father, who he argued with every afternoon outside of Bean’s window. The poor boy was already shouldering quite a burden.

All in all, he was very efficient in what he did, so Netero kept him on board, and it really was rewarding to watch over budding talent. The other staff members were characters in their own right, in charge of their themed classrooms – the animals theme of the preschool seemed adequately appropriate for the children – and they quarreled amongst each other frequently and often pitted the talent of their students against each other, but they recognized Beans’s position behind the scenes and were, on the whole, either genuinely kind or politely cordial. He specified on the whole, Beans thought as he hurried down the hall, because just as there were a handful of problem children, there was also one thorn in – metaphorically – the preschool’s side.

“Teacher Pariston,” Beans announced, throwing the door to Rat Class’s classroom wide open. “You’re late to greet the students.”

The classroom was dark. A body moved close to the front of the classroom, lying on the beanbags in the corner. Pariston lifted his head, his eyes half open. He checked his watch on his wrist. “Five more minutes, Beans? My kids are always late anyway!”

Occasionally, there were parents that came forward, quietly whispering that they were troubled that their child was placed in the Rat Class, and wasn’t it possible to change the name to perhaps Mouse or Squirrel? These complaints were swiftly addressed by Pariston swooping in, wearing a bright plastic smile and his yellow teacher’s apron, saying in the most syrupy voice, “My dear, don’t you think it’s time to understand and banish the stigma against the noble rat? They are very resilient creatures, and in my class, I want my students to grow to be able to handle whatever life throws at them…which I am sure you know is not always kind…just as Teacher Geru conducts her Serpent Class to face adversary and strike back, I hope you understand…members of the Rat Class do not scuttle around in the sewers…” At this point, Pariston usually had his arm comfortably around the parent’s shoulders, steering them toward his classroom, leaning in and smelling good. Beans had seen him washing off his cologne in the bathroom after the appeased parent left, the smile on his face more of a sneer, and that level of deceit seemed counter to Netero’s vision for his students.

“No, Pariston,” Beans said firmly. “It’s policy to greet the students. If they see that the other teachers are outside but you aren’t, don’t you think the students of Rat Class will feel upset?”

“They can move to Cheadle’s class if they’re so upset,” Pariston sighed, putting his head back down into the beanbags. He opened his eyes as Beans came up next to him and began pulling him to his feet. “Oh my, Beans. Are you trying to manhandle me? What would Netero say?”

“He would say you deserve it. Frankly, I’m appalled he appointed you as vice principal but I’m sure he has his reasons.” Beans managed to extract Pariston from the beanbags, wincing as Pariston threw his entire weight upon Beans just to be difficult.

“I’m just so charming,” Pariston drawled, simpering at Beans in what some might call affection. It made Beans’s skin crawl. He was not going to withhold credit where credit was due; Pariston was conventionally attractive, but when he smiled in a certain way, it made Beans think of the people who committed atrocious crimes and their neighbors were interviewed saying things like, oh it was such a surprise, I would have never suspected him…

Beans dragged Pariston through the hallway, but the moment they reached the threshold of the preschool doors, Pariston straightened up and strode down the stairs toward the gates with the poise and enthusiasm of someone who might happen to enjoy working with children. “Good morning, Ging,” he called. “You’re early today!”

Ging Freecss did not look like he amounted to much and often came with Gon very late in the morning and picked him up very late at night, dressed in worn clothing and sometimes without shoes, but he had come highly recommended by Netero, according to Gon’s file. Ging was never clean-shaven, but Beans thought he probably had not touched a razor for a couple days. “Yes, well,” he said, “I have a job today that I need to start immediately and I can’t be having Gon tag along. I’ll probably be late tonight too.”

Pariston beamed at him. “When are you not? Gon may as well become an official ward of the school!”

Beans did not like Ging terribly much, because he did not look opposed to the suggestion. Gon stood next to him, appropriately close to his father like a dutiful son, but he was looking around eagerly. “But good for you, he is my favorite student,” Pariston continued, his eyes narrowing very slightly at Ging. “I wouldn’t mind walking him home myself until you come home. But if I wait for you with Gon, I might feel neglected too!”

“You don’t seem that opposed to neglect play,” Ging sniffed, “by the way you’re smiling like that.”

“Killua!” Gon cried, running from his father’s side. He tackled his friend into a massive hug, as if they had not just spent one night away from each other at their respective homes but a million nights. He was with his eldest brother today, Illumi, dressed in a pitch-black suit. Illumi only came when their father was too busy to see off the prodigal son of the family; if Killua was argumentative with his father, he was positively passive with his oldest brother. Killua allowed himself a small smile in front of Illumi and it grew as Gon pulled him into the school.

“Please look after my brother again today,” Illumi said to Pariston. He turned to Ging without a change in expression. “Good morning, Freecss.”

“Illumi,” Ging said by way of a greeting. “I look forward to working with you today, as usual.” His gaze on Illumi was fixed in the way Pariston was looking at him still.

“Just don’t get in the way,” Illumi said, turning on his heel. Ging easily fell into step with him, with each stride seemingly bringing him easily into Illumi’s space. Pariston waved at their departing backs with the same shit-eating grin.

“I don’t think he’s interested in playing your games with you,” Beans said as he began closing the gates after the last bell. The preschool had a strict policy on tardiness as well; too many tardies or absences could get a student expelled, with the only way to avoid the charge on their file being if they could get past the gate by themselves and into class. The lock clicked into place and Beans activated the additional security measures into place; they were a preschool, after all, and needed to take into consideration the safety of the young children. The invisible electric charge crackled to life.

“Who?” Pariston asked, stretching. “Oh, Ging? That’s okay. I’m not that invested in him. I can get his connections some other way. It would just be easier if he would just get interested in me!” His teeth were shiny white. “Gon actually doesn’t like me that much,” he admitted. “These kids are so guarded! How am I supposed to get them to put in a good word for me?”

Beans ignored him and began walking back toward the school. “You like the kids,” he said simply. “Even if you pretend you’re only doing it for yourself. Netero knows this too.”

Pariston trailed behind him quietly for a moment before he leaned down and said, “Aw, are you feeling sorry for me, Beans? That’s sweet, really. I’ll let you comfort me! I’m not meeting with any parents after school, so let’s do dinner! Please treat me well, Mister Beans.”

Beans pushed him away. “Your students are waiting for you.” He began walking back to the main office before pausing. “Seven-thirty?” he asked.

Pariston’s laugh echoed down the hall.


End file.
